


Marigold Runner

by JayMor



Series: DC Mixtape [1]
Category: Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Bluepulse, Hanahaki Disease, Khaji Da has opinions, M/M, Slow Burn, Tim Drake is Robin, Wally West is Alive, eventually, kind of? a variant for sure, not s3 compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 09:52:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17506376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayMor/pseuds/JayMor
Summary: It starts with an explosion, the clunking of foreign technology crash landing in Mount Justice, Robin’s outraged squawking about security and intruders and who the hell are you, the rush of air, a breathless "Hey Blue," and like that, Bart Allen joins Young Justice.Bart is a whirlwind that Jaime finds himself happily caught up in. But something is wrong with Bart, and Jaime, barely beginning to understand he might be a little bit in love, is terrified to lose him.





	Marigold Runner

**Author's Note:**

> Heads up I have not seen YJ for a hot minute, and have not seen any of Season Three (I don't own the DC streaming service #saddays) so this is loosely canon compliant up until the end of Season 2, and then it is not canon compliant at all. That being said I love Young Justice and had to write a fic to celebrate its return.  
> #giveusWallyWest

It starts with an explosion, the clunking of foreign technology crash landing in Mount Justice, Robin’s outraged squawking about security and intruders and _who the hell are you_ , the rush of air, a breathless _Hey Blue_ , and like that, Bart Allen joins Young Justice.

He’s a carbon copy of Wally, same jokes, same laugh, same silly-stupid smile at all the wrong times, but smaller and skinnier and undeniably so _so_ much faster. He saves Barry like it’s nothing and never talks about the future and when Wally decides to retire it’s almost as if nothing changes, because Bart is _so Wally_ sometimes it can be hard to tell speedsters apart.

(But when they beat a bad guy Bart exclaims _crash_ with a grin that glows sunshine-bright on his face and just like that the team remembers that _oh_ this is the future speedster with his future talk who’s here on vacation and _not_ our Kid Flash, not _Wally_. Nightwing gets stiff and everyone pretends that Superboy didn’t accidently say _KF_ over the comms instead of _Impluse_.)

The distinction doesn’t seem to bother Bart.

Jaime isn’t sure how it happened, but he and Bart are friends. It’s like one day Bart looked at him and thought— _that one, that one’s mine—_ imprinted on Jamie like a duckling, following the dangerous Blue Beetle around like Jaime held a leash. If Bart didn’t seem surprised when Jaime talked back to the scarab in his head and sometime flinched away when Jaime wore his armor, then Jamie thought nothing of it. Bart blew it off with grin and a fistful of Chicken Whizees that he pilfered from Jaime’s locker (because _scavenger’s rights_ which really what even did that _mean_ ) and Jaime would forget completely about the strangeness of it if not for the scarab in the back of his mind whispering _The Bart Allen is hiding something The Bart Allen is hiding something Determine what the Bart Allen is hiding_.

 

And then Jamie goes on mode, and suddenly, Bart calling the good things _crash_ makes so much more sense, because when Bart finally manages to crash the mode and free Jaime and Khaji Da from Reach control it is a _good thing_.   

 

But then Wally dies.

(The air clears. Artemis collapses to her knees. Wally is gone gone _gone_ and why is _Bart_ still here _Bart_ is the one who didn’t belong didn’t fit shouldn’t have stayed.)

 

And _fuck_ , it isn’t Bart’s fault, but the line of his shoulders and his plastic smile, the way his laugh spills brittle and glass-fragile from his lips at the stupid unfunny things, makes Jaime believe that Bart believes it is.

One night they sit on the roof of Jaime’s house, Bart wrapped in the quilt off Jaime’s bed and Jamie wearing Khaji Da up to his neck in the cold Texas twilight (and Jaime still wonders why his armor is okay, why Bart doesn’t flinch away from him like the rest of Young Justice, why he doesn’t look at the Blue Beetle and think _Reach control, powerless, Wally dead_ the way everyone else does. But Bart had promised him, had touched his hand and looked him in the eyes and said _Jaime you’re good. Khaji Da is good. The Reach is bad and we beat them and you are not the Reach._ And Jaime had believed him because he had to, because Bart was everything wonderful and his eyes were green and earnest and springtime fields and Jaime needed to believe that those eyes couldn’t lie) and Bart whispers quietly into the stars, “He wasn’t supposed to die.”

They both know he’s talking about Wally.

Jaime doesn’t say anything, ignores Khaji Da (because he _is_ Khaji Da now, not just the scarab) whispering in his head that _The Bart Allen is illogical he cannot know who is supposed to die_ (because Khaji Da is incredible and smart but still hasn’t quite figured out human emotions like _grief_ or _regret_ or _sorrow_ yet) and puts his arm around Bart, dragging him closer till their sides are pressed against each other and Bart’s head is mushed against Jaime’s chest.

 

Two days later, Bart has dinner with Jaime’s family for the first time (Jaime’s mama demanded it, commanded and cajoled because _you’re a superhero mijo not a recluse where are your friends?_ ) and suddenly Jaime finds himself wondering who Bart’s parents are, if he has any siblings (Bart scoops up Milagro, ignoring the paint on her fingers and the way she squeals and flails and gets purple acrylic in his hair and _beams_ , face wide and open in a way that Jaime hasn’t seen in _months_ , not since Wally, and Jaime’s chest _hurts_ ) and where they are now, why Bart left them behind and if he misses them. He doesn’t ask.

(His mama does, as she’s passing the potatoes to Jaime, like families are as casual as the weather.

“Do you miss your parents _chiquito_?”

And Bart clams up, tighter than Jaime has ever seen him, eyes blown and panicked until he grins, a fake awful thing that curls across his face like peeling paint as he replies, “They’re lovely.”

Then Bart asks about Mexico and Jaime watches as his mama grins before launching into nostalgia-fueled stories of her childhood. He does not mention families to Bart after that.)

Bart smiles when he leaves, eyes crinkling into mirth like he’s never heard a sad thing in his life and it makes Jaime’s chest pang. He crushes him into a hug, whispering _goodbye_ into the desert as Bart dashes away in a cloud of dust.

(It’s only because of Khaji Da that Jaime catches the “See you later _Hai-mee_ ” that Bart throws over his shoulder, hears the speedster stumble, cough, and keep running. He thinks nothing of it.)

 

The next time Jaime sees Bart is for a mission. It’s something ridiculous, feels more like a joke than an actual battle (a giant t-rex that speaks with an English accent is fighting with Sphere to Jaime’s left. He’s with Superboy trying to overpower the souped-up raptor alligator hybrids.) when Bart runs off a cliff to a chorus of machine gun fire.

There’s a moment of shock—of _did he just do that?_ (because Bart is _Bart_. Lippy and whip-quick and since when did Bart run away from _bullets?_ He’s fast enough to phase through them.) –and Jaime is over the edge of the cliff too, Khaji Da in his head screeching _save the Bart Allen we cannot lose the Bart Allen_ as he catches Bart by the armpits, depositing him safely at the edge of the fight before returning to Superboy (Bart is out of breath, red-faced and panting and Jaime doesn’t think about how odd that is, about how Bart out of all of them is the one who is never struggling to breathe, never out of shape, always ready to run. He doesn’t see Bart slam his fist against his chest or choke on the cough he drives out of his lungs.)

They beat the weird dinosaur guerrilla bad guys when Robin detonates a well-placed bomb that collapses the side of the cliff Mulan-style, and all the dinosaurs are washed away in the dirt. Bart doesn’t make any puns on the flight home and Jaime ignores Khaji Da persistent in his head, whispering _something is wrong with the Bart Allen_.

(Bart does not come say goodbye when Jaime leaves for El Paso. Instead he stays in his room in the tower, door locked down against all the Young Justice members. Jaime knocks because it’s strange, Bart is acting odd, and Jaime needs to convince himself that Bart is okay.

“You in there?” Jaime asks, “Bart? I’m going home. I’ve got school tomorrow and Mama wants me to help Milagro with homework. Just wanted to say bye before I left. Bart? Come on _amigo_. You in there?”

If the silence on the other side of the door makes Jaime uneasy he doesn’t acknowledge it, lets Khaji Da cover him in armor, and flies home.)

 

The next time Jaime goes to the Titans Tower to find Bart he is informed by Tim that Bart is sick and will not be participating in team missions until he can recover.

(Jaime is suddenly hyper aware the next time Batman comes to assign the team with a mission. He notices the way that Batman and Robin huddle in a corner and whisper, the looks they shoot at him, Barry’s abrupt and uncomfortable presence in the tower and the way that he never talks, only watches, face twisted into concern that he never learned to hide away.)

 

And then Bart’s back. He shows up at Jaime’s house in El Paso with a grin, looking for all the world like he’d never gone in the first place.

He holds up a package of Chicken Whizees and breezes past Jaime with a “Hey man how have you been I missed you—oh hey Mrs. Reyes! _Como e-stahs?—_ I feel like it’s been forever since I’ve seen you oh also I stole Mario Kart from Gar wanna play?” He barrels straight for Jaime’s room (and Jaime tries to ignore the way the thought sends butterflies scrambling in his stomach. He can’t think about how much he _likes_ Bart in his room because that is too much, too soon, terrifying in a way that has Jaime at odds with the casual Catholicism of his Mexican upbringing in a way he’s never been before) and plops down at the end of Jaime’s bed, game already set up, one of the controllers in his lap and the other held out to Jaime like a peace offering. Jaime takes it.

They play for what feels like barely twenty minutes when Bart coughs, a wet rattling thing that has him disappearing to Jaime’s bathroom at a speed that leaves Jaime’s hair standing on end and papers fluttering in the air. When he comes back Bart is smiling again, lips pulled tight across white teeth, almost a grimace.

“Sorry about that.” Bart says.

 “No worries,” Jaime smiles back (Jaime wants to ask him what’s wrong with him, why _Tim_ knew Bart was sick when Jaime didn’t know anything.). He hands Bart his controller and turns back to Mario Kart, slinging red shells at Bart instead of questions, to focused on passing King Boo to acknowledge Khaji Da in his head repeating _the Bart Allen is unwell allow diagnostic scan_ (Bart looks at him with concern when Jaime mutters “ _No_ Khaji Da _._ ”).

Bart doesn’t leave until late, not until the sun has long set and in October the Texas desert is truly _cold_. (Jaime tries not to worry, but even _he_ gets cold at night, and that’s with Khaji Da. Bart’s suit is glorified spandex.) Bart has another grin on his face, like the one from before, from his coughing fit, and when he talks it sounds like there’s something stuck in his throat. But he smiles nonetheless, and says, “Bye Blue!” and then he’s gone.

That night, as Jaime is getting ready for bed, he finds a collection of marigold petals stuffed in his trashcan.

(“Milagro?” Jaime calls. “Mama? Are we getting ready _ya_ for _Dia de los Muertos_?”

“No Jaime,” his mama yells back.)

 

And Jaime wants to worry about Bart. He really _really_ does.

But then Wally comes back from the Speedforce and suddenly there’s no time anymore, because Bart is always with Wally and Jaime can tell, can see it in Bart’s posture and his smile, that Bart isn’t guilty anymore (except he is. Jaime knows it. But it’s so much quieter this time, only obvious in his eyes, hidden so well that if Jaime knew Bart any less, he never would have noticed) and Jaime is so _so happy_ for Bart.

And for Artemis.

And Dick.

And Kaldur.

And all of Young Justice really, because now Wally is back. Now there _are_ no casualties left from the Reach. Now they can heal.

Except for Jaime.

Because it was Jaime’s fault (or maybe it wasn’t. But Bart wasn’t around anymore to sling an arm around his shoulders and remind him that _no, Jaime wasn’t evil no¸ Jaime wasn’t the Reach_.) and suddenly Jaime is hiding again, ducking around corners when M’gann walks by because he is terrified of her ability to read his mind, running from Dick when he give orders, staying away more and more from the Tower, more and more from Young Justice, more and more staying in his room with his headphones in to drown out Khaji Da’s concern and Wally’s presence and Bart’s absence.

Except Jaime misses Bart (misses buying more Chicken Whizees every week. Misses Bart’s weird vocabulary. Misses racing across the desert, trying to see who’s faster, Bart dashing around buildings or Jaime flying overhead in his armor) in a way that’s new.

He wakes up to dream-soft touches imprinted in his memory. At school he sees red-headed classmates and double-takes, paranoid and hoping that a speedster has come to visit. He is restless and jumpy and unsure, maybe half in-love but to afraid to see it and Bart is nowhere to be found.

 

Until the mission.

It’s an all-hands-on-deck, no-one-left-home kind of mission, with the Injustice League in possession of stolen Reach technology and most of the Justice League off-world helping with a Lantern issue.

The tech makes Khaji Da fritz, off and on to the point where Jaime lands and fights on the ground, moderately afraid that if he stayed in the air Khaji Da would malfunction and drop him. He’s still useful, but not as much and he can’t get a clear glimpse of the fight, can’t tell what’s going on.

Clarion is involved, shooting beams of glittering red magic helter-skelter around him, cackling about _time_ and _balance_ and _things not set to right_ and frankly it’s annoying, but Jaime can’t get to him from where he’s dealing with Ra’s Al Ghul’s ninja.

Ra’s himself is nowhere to be seen (small mercies) but Psimon is present, and M’gann is too busy fighting him to maintain a telepathic link.

Wally is _faster_. It’s almost scary. Jaime keeps seeing the speedster blur past in the corner of his eye, and every time hopes it’s Bart, only to be let down by Khaji Da remarking _the Wally West is running 117% faster than recorded average speed._

It’s a hard fight, and by the time Ra’s has fled and Psimon is neutralized and the Reach weapons are back in Justice League custody, everyone is exhausted.

And Bart is gone.

Jaime is the first to notice (maybe even the only to notice, because the team has become so used to just _one_ speedster after so long that it feels strange to have two in the field, felt natural for one to disappear) and he panics, searches the group, forces Khaji Da to scan for Bart’s presence. When Khaji Da comes up empty Jaime finds himself staggering to Tim.

“Rob,” he breathes, bringing a hand down to rest on Tim’s forearm. They’re both sweating, both exhausted. Tim has a cut on his left eyebrow that is bleeding sluggishly, only minutes away from dripping into the lens of his mask. “Rob, Bart’s gone. I can’t find him. Khaji Da can’t find him. He’s just,” Jaime mimics an explosion with his hands, “poof. Gone.”

“Are you sure?” Tim asks, brushing the blood away.

“Positive,” Jaime nods. “I had Khaji Da scan a 100-mile radius. Nothing.”

Tim’s mouth twists into a grimace, shoulders tense (and Jaime remembers when Bart was sick, remembers Tim’s expression then, the way he stood and talked to Batman and moved as if the entire world rested on his back). “That’s not good.” Tim says.

 

But they don’t find him. Despite searching everywhere, talking to Barry, checking all around the world, Bart is gone.

It makes Jaime want to tear his hair out (he snaps at Milagro when she asks him to paint with her, thinking of Bart with purple dashing his face). He buys too many Chicken Whizees (Bart always complained that Jaime never had enough, that Bart was never full, that he could eat an entire store full of them) and leaves them alone, untouched and unopened in his closet. He steals Gar’s copy of Mario Kart and doesn’t play it, doesn’t return it.

One day, he punches Tim in the face, convinced that he knows something, that he’s hiding something. (Jaime remembers the way that Tim tensed, remembers that he knew Bart was sick, is sure that if anyone knowns anything about Bart it is the son of Batman, because Batman is paranoia incarnate, Batman knows everything about everyone at all times and why should his son be any better?) Tim lays him out neatly, knocking his legs from under him with a precise tap of his bo staff and a firm, “Stand _down_ Beetle.” The hit doesn’t hurt nearly as bad as the betrayal.

(Jaime stops going to the Tower after that).

Tim calls later, to apologize or reassert or defend his actions, Jaime doesn’t know. He hangs up on him, and listens to Khaji Da chant _the Robin is lying the Robin is Lying the Robin Is Lying._

 

And then it’s January. Three months pass (Jaime barely notices them. Drowns himself in schoolwork and missions and Milagro and anything that will take his mind off spring-field green and a boy too fast too happy too _hiding._ A boy that Jaime is starting to realize he _loves._ ) like clockwork, the world refusing to still or slow, even for its heroes.

And then Bart shows up at his door (there is a crackle of lightning, Milagro is screaming “ _Hermano! Hermano! Ven aquí_ , it’s Bart!” and Jaime is running down the stairs in his sweatpants, eyes wild, finally _seeing_ the speedster again. It feels like an _halleluiah_ ) gaunt and pale and out of breath, his suit hanging loose on his frame in a way that it shouldn’t, red hair dull with grease but he’s still grinning, something real and full and bright for the first time in a long time. And Jaime throws a bag of Chicken Whizees at him, because he is too angry to speak and afraid that if he does anything else he may knock Bart down where he stands.  

Bart leans against Jaime as they walk up the stairs. (Jaime can feel Bart’s shoulder blade dig into the side of his arm. His goggles keep slipping down to his nose. He favors his left foot and clutches at his stomach. Khaji Da is screaming in Jaime’s head and Jaime is screaming in Jaime’s head and he is so _so worried._ )

They sit on the edge of Jaime’s bed, and Bart offers Jaime a marigold.

“For you,” he says, his grin faltering, starting to crack into a grimace at the corners. Jaime takes the flower, puts it on his desk, rounds on Bart.

“Where the hell have you been?”

Bart stares at the flower, something forlorn and lost in his gaze. “I didn’t mean to leave,” he murmurs, subdued in a way that is unnatural, quiet in a way that has Jaime straining to hear. “I didn’t mean to leave, but I had to. I’m sorry Jaime.”

“What do you m—”

“I’m going to have to leave again,” Bart continues, and Jaime stills, panic rushing through him. _No no no no no_. Bart couldn’t leave not after Jaime had just gotten him _back_. “I just came to say goodbye.” Bart nods at the flower. “Make me an _ofrenda_?” he asks. “Put some marigolds on it for me?”

“Bart,” Jaime chokes out (“Bart,” he wants to ask, “Bart why do you want an _ofrenda_ , why do you want marigolds, why are you talking about me making you a _grave_?), “what’s going on?”

“I’m dying.”

(And no, no no no no _no_. That is not okay. Not now, not when Jaime has just realized that he loves this speedster, this boy displaced in time with windswept hair and field-green eyes who laughs even when there is no reason to laugh, if only to numb another’s pain.”

“You can’t.”

Bart laughs, and it’s brittle, a sound that cracks in the tension and makes goosebumps rise on Jaime’s arms. “I don’t have a choice,” Bart replies. “I’m sick Jaime.”

“With what?” Jaime asks. Surely there must be a cure. Surely _someone_ in the Justice League can fix this.

A small secret smile curls across Bart’s face as he glances to the flower on Jaime’s desk. “With marigolds,” Bart murmurs. “I’m choking on them. Batman says it’s magic, probably Clarion fucking with me. Maybe the universe, trying to even out the balance.” Bart lets his eyes shut, takes a breath. In Jaime’s head Khaji Da is warning him _Jaime you are hyperventilating. Calm down._ “No one can fix it. Zatanna tried. Just made it worse. Even John Constantine gave it ago. He failed too. I’m fucked _amigo_. Moded. I’m going to die.”

And Jaime can’t think, can’t process, can’t understand because all he can hear is _I’m going to die_ stuck on repeat, Bart withering away into dust in his mind, in pain and alone and desperate and it _hurts_ and it’s all Jaime can do to surge forward and _kiss him_.

(In hindsight, maybe there was truth to the legends behind true love’s kiss. And maybe Bart wasn’t poisoned or sleeping in a tower but maybe he was cursed in another way, maybe the universe was just waiting for someone to get it _right_ , maybe the universe was just trying to love the boy that saved it _back_ , give him a reason to keep fighting.)

Jaime jerks back and apologizes, horrified, didn’t mean to force himself but no. There’s Bart, staring at him with wonder and spit-slick lips, eyes blown and a blush creeping up his cheeks, looking more alive than he had since he’s shown up at Jaime’s door.

“Do it again,” he whispers, “Jaime _please_ , do it again.”

So Jaime does. Leans forward nice and slow this time, careful and unhurried and determined to show Bart exactly how much he loves him, how much he missed him (but he gets distracted. It’s too easy to get caught up in Bart’s quiet moans and little squirms and soon Jaime is devouring him, pressing against him, pouring himself into Bart like an imprint on his soul, tying him to Earth and Jaime’s time and whispering a prayer that Bart never _never_ leaves) and Bart kisses back.

 

It is two weeks later, when Bart runs from the Tower to El Paso without running out of breath that Jaime lets himself believe that Bart is not going to die, that they will be okay, and that Batman, for once, was wrong.

(He still punches Tim though. Just once, in the jaw, for not telling him _how sick_ Bart was.)


End file.
